


Click

by daphnerunning



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Gen, Mind Control, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 08:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith likes it when things go "click."</p><p>Written for the Kink Meme (but is genfic) in response to the prompt: "Keith Goodman wasn't always the autistic moeblob we know, actually Sky High used to be a really smart man. To be specific, so smart that he saw trough Maverick's plans in several different occasions and his current clueless mental state is a side effect of the many times Maverick destroy his memory."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Click

Keith likes the little “click” things make when they fit together. He’s been staring at the wall for over an hour, willing it to make sense, when a stray thought about coffee passes through his mind. In that second of inattention, everything snaps into place.

He understands how the crime syndicate Ouroboros has been setting up their crimes.

He understands the driving force behind Apollon Media.

He solves a crime more than a decade old. A little blond boy stares up at him from a crime scene photograph. That boy is probably a teenager now, maybe Keith’s own age. It’s time he had closure.

He plans his attack for weeks. It wouldn’t do to go rushing in, after all. Obviously, Maverick has been working with at least one powerful NEXT. He’s probably one himself.

He feels a twinge of regret that he never got to become a Hero; with Maverick gone, Hero TV might never be the same. Still, he’s on track to graduate medical school at nineteen.  Keith knows he’ll do plenty of good in the world, with or without a cape.

The only reason he hasn’t called the police is because he knows Maverick will have informants there. It’s safer to assume he has fingers in every pie.

So it’s alone that he takes the stairs to Maverick’s office three at a time, phone set to auto-dial emergency services at the push of a button, his newfound powers at his side, and the text of a citizen’s arrest memorized.

He’s not so stupid as to try and announce his presence; he apprehends Maverick first. He binds the man’s hands, reads him his rights, and confronts him with the information he’s gathered.

“Impressive. You’ve really done your research. What’s your name, boy?”

The hair’s on the back of Keith’s neck stand up. That’s not the voice of a man who knows he’s been defeated. “Keep quiet,” he says, putting all his authority into his voice. “You’re coming with me.”

The next thing he registers is a blinding pain in his head, a flash of light, and the rough fabric of the carpet against his cheek.

“Hmm. At least you’re smart. That’s for your own good, you know. It’s easy to change the smart ones. An idiot wonders why there’s a pink elephant falling from the sky, but a smart man never sees it, because he knows pink elephants don’t fall from the sky.” Maverick chuckles to himself, pleased with the analogy.

Keith tries to struggle to his feet, tries to move, but then Maverick’s big hand is covering his face.

 

 

 

Keith likes the little “click” things make when they fit together. It’s the feeling he gets when he helps Mr. Maverick with the crossword puzzles, like they’ve done every week for years.

He loves being the youngest Hero on Hero TV. It’s a better life than being a surgeon, but he’s finishing medical school in his free time, just in case.

His first clue that something is wrong comes when a little girl is taken hostage, held over the edge of a building by a group of men wearing masks, demanding the city worship them as gods. Keith saves the girl seconds after she’s dropped, and she clings to his shiny new armor for dear life.

“Thank you,” she sobs, burying her face in his chest. “I’d have died if you weren’t there! It’s a miracle!”

She would have died. But he was there.

The world doesn’t work like that. Keith knows.

After that, he sees the patterns. The worst crimes, the flashiest ones, they’re too perfect. They all happen when there are at least two heroes free, when there’s a camera crew no more than four blocks away.

No one was ever pushed off a building in Sternbild before Sky High joined Hero TV. Since then, it’s happened nine times.

“Mr. Maverick?” he says, a little hesitant to voice his concerns. He knows he’s right, but doesn’t want to be. Maverick has been good to him, has been good to his family, ever since he was a child.

“Yes, Keith? Are they treating you well at Poseidon?”

“Yes, sir. It’s only…I have some questions.” He swallows, steels his resolve, and says, “For you. About the orchestration of crime in this city.”

 

 

 

Keith likes the little “click” things make when they fit together. Like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He loves solving those.

Mr. Maverick sees him doing it one night. He sighs, oddly sad. “Keith, my boy. What have I told you about solving things?”

“That a Hero only needs to be strong to solve problems,” Keith parrots. He’s good at remembering things. It’s why they let him make the flash cards for his remedial study group.

“But you still keep working.”

Keith shrugs. He’s found the last corner, the one with part of the sky. “It feels good. Like scratching an itch.”

“It’s inconvenient. Leads you down the wrong path.”

“Sir? What do you—“

 

 

 

Keith likes the little “click” things make when they fit together. That’s how the weights at the gym sound when they snap back into place after a hard rep. Keith’s eyes burn with the drive, the intensity of his desires. He wants…he wants a lot of things, probably.

He wants to make Mr. Maverick proud, that’s for sure. That’s why he wants to be the best of Heroes, the _King_ of Heroes. That’s how he decides, months after the idea niggles into his head, that someone is doing something bad to the city.

He’s slow to realize it, but the lights flicker on nonetheless. The realization hits him that maybe someone is controlling Mr. Maverick, making him do or say something he wouldn’t do or say otherwise.

Keith likes to help people. That’s why he used to want to be a surgeon, back when he was a little boy.

That’s why he goes digging through Mr. Maverick’s desk. That’s why he told the police first, just in case something bad happened and they needed to know.

He hears the sigh from behind him, feels the large hand on his shoulder. “Keith, if you were anyone else, I’d have lost patience with you.” Maverick strokes a thumb down Keith’s chin, smiling fondly. “The cameras love you, though. You send my ratings through the roof. Why can’t you stop butting in where things don’t concern you?”

Keith shakes his head, willing away the pain, the light, the cloud stealing through his mind that – _God, no, no no no no no!—_ suddenly feels horribly familiar. For a  brief second, he knows what Maverick has done to him, knows about the—how many? At least a dozen?—times he’s been in this office with an accusation on his lips.

“Why?” Maverick asks again, brow furrowed around that mole of his.

Keith forces an unapologetic smile. “Part of my personality, sir. You can wipe my mind again and again, but I’ll always keep digging.”

Maverick smiles too, and Keith’s vision goes white.

 

 

 

 

Keith likes the little “click” things make when they come together. Like magnets. He has magnets at home. They were a present.

Keith likes making people happy. He likes his dog, even if he can’t remember adopting him in the first place. He likes working for Poseidon, and being on Hero TV. He likes Mr. Maverick, and keeping the peace. He likes being the King of Heroes.

He likes being in time to save people when they fall. It’s a good thing he has Agnes and Mr. Maverick to tell him when to fly, or he’d probably have missed the little boy who fell off the tower, right before the fireworks. It probably made a really nice picture.

Keith has always wanted to help people. That’s why he wanted to be a guide at a theme park when he grew up.

There’s a single puzzle piece on his coffee table. He found it one day when he was cleaning.

He’s never cared where the rest of the pieces are. 


End file.
